


We Have So Much To Lose

by longhairandbarefeet



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Forbidden Love, Roswell, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:51:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4904506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairandbarefeet/pseuds/longhairandbarefeet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jon Snow saves Sansa Stark's life, they form a bond unlike any other they've ever experienced. This causes their lives to change, and the people they love around them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Jon was always in love with her. How could he not save her? He asked himself, looking at her lying lifeless on the floor of her parent’s kitschy diner. His hands were hovering over her abdomen trying to bring her back. Jon didn’t really know who he was, or what he was, but he did know he couldn’t imagine being on this planet without Sansa Stark on it too. 

When he saw her stir, eyes flickering open and body jerking in response, he knew it was working. Then, unlike any time before, he started having flashes, unwarranted and strong. He tried to control them, but they kept coming as his hands stayed on her stomach. Images of Sansa as a child where she wore a blue butterfly dress and played games with all the other kids and Jon, he saw himself, as a small boy watching her. He was always watching her. Jon pulled his hands away to see the bullet hole was gone, and bloodstains left in its place. He sighed with relief, and while doing so he saw Sansa looking up at him, confused and mystified. 

“Sansa, you spilled, you spilled ketchup.” Jon said pulling a bottle from the counter and smashing it. He poured it over her stomach, and stood up with haste. She laid still and watched him, and her calmness made him nervous.

“I got to go.” He began to walk away, and saw Aegon standing at the entrance of the diner. He was wearing a worried expression, and Jon knew this entire situation was going to be bad. He ran towards the door, and when he reached it he turned around to get a final look at Sansa. She was standing up, her ponytail off center and her eyebrows wrinkled. She had pursed lips, and was covered in the contents of a ketchup bottle, but Jon thought she still looked beautiful. Jon knew this was a risk, and something that could expose him and his brother, but one last look at Sansa, and he knew it was worth it.


	2. The Shooting

August 27th- The Day of the Shooting:

 

Sansa stared at her reflection. She looked critically at the soft pale scar above her eyebrow she got as a toddler when she fell off the slide in the local park on a warm day. She wished that scar would go away, but it seemed that it was going to be stuck there forever, haunting her face for years to come. Then she ran her fingers under her eyes to remove traces of sleep still lingering in her bright blue eyes. She was working double shifts a lot during the summer, saving money for a car and for clothing that was appropriate for her taste, which was entirely too expensive for the locale, but it had drained her pockets dry.

Sansa went about her morning rituals like a perfunctory zombie. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, trying to apply light makeup and fix her hair to look halfway decent in a high swept ponytail, Sansa searched for her uniform in the pile of clean clothes her mom had washed. It was some hokey thing, a pastel blue dress with a metallic alien on the apron. It was appropriate for the theme, which were little green aliens, more specifically the big crash that occurred in 1947. It wasn’t the most original, living in Roswell, New Mexico; aliens were the biggest and best attraction, but they were able to make a decent living doing it.

Twenty years ealier her father, Ned Stark, decided to take his trust fund left by his father and open a diner that was half a joke, half a moneymaker. Sansa wished he had put his trust fund into something that required less work. She hated coming home, which was a large sprawling apartment above the diner, smelling like tarter sauce, greasy fries, and stale ketchup. She also could do without the alien antennas that would sit atop her head while she served the small town people who couldn’t help but stare at them as they flipped and flopped like rabbit ears.

“Sansa, our shift starts in five!” she heard Arya yell from the bottom of the staircase, and Sansa groaned at the way she was spending her Saturday. She could be making plans with Harry or out shopping with Margaery, but for those plans she needed money. Sansa remembered when her parents still paid for everything, and maybe one day she’d appreciate the lesson in money management, but for now she was snippy about it.

“Be down in a second!” Sansa shouted back, slipping the dress on like a comfortable glove. It was the most worn thing in her wardrobe, and while she hated the color and cut, she didn’t mind the way the soft cotton felt on her skin. Sansa grabbed a pair of ankle socks from her top drawer, and then slipped her favorite white Keds on. She pressed the antennas on her head last, and grumbled. If she weren’t already exhausted, she’d be exhausted looking at herself in the outfit.

When she reached the bottom of the staircase, she looked to see Arya standing by her work locker. She had her ear buds still in and was humming along. Sansa looked at Arya’s outfit and envied it. It was similar to Sansa’s, she still had to wear ridiculous antennas and an equally ridiculous apron, but she was allowed to wear black tailor fit pants instead and a tee shirt that was adorned with the restaurants logo in the top right corner. Her father said it was because Arya generally worked the counter and fryers, and in that case it was best to not risk grease accidents, which could scar her.

Sansa had tried to work in the kitchen with her dad before to avoid brutish customers, but within the first five minutes she cut herself with a knife chopping onions and burned her forearm on a baked potato pan. It was the first and last time she worked in the kitchen. Sansa felt she was better suited for the customers because they never left external injuries.

“Ready for today?” Arya asked wrapping her ear buds around her phone, placing it in her locker for safekeeping. Arya then put her hair up into a topknot, making sure to leave no loose pieces to fall in her face.

“Yes, I am hoping people are pleasant.”

“Wouldn’t hold your breath, the convention always brings out the crazies,” Arya replied with a smirk. She was right. People from the convention usually came in asking nonsensical questions about extraterrestrial encounters, but Sansa would humor them to make the day easier. She even had a silly photo of a swollen lime green alien in her apron to show naïve customers so they won’t leave Roswell disappointed. She knew that if aliens were in fact real, they weren’t coming anywhere near here today.

“Sansa, could you unlock the doors? The regulars are already lining up,” her dad peeked his head out from the kitchen to tell her. Sansa nodded with a quiet huff. She still needed to start the pot of coffee for table one, a sweet old man with too much time on his hands, and grab two iced teas in to go cups for table twelve, an elderly couple who only speak to give their orders. Sansa should enjoy these simple comforts, the same people with the same cool attitude, but it only unsettled her more. The monotony of it suffocated her.

“Okay dad.” She said.

 

+

The day was going as expected, people were pooling in like sheep, expecting interesting stories and alien-themed food. They got the latter, but Sansa wasn’t as convincing as she usually was with her stories.

“You mean you’ve seen an alien?” A young couple gawked at Sansa as she set their food down in from of them, a satisfied smile on her face because she finally convinced someone in the restaurant. It only took a few tries.

“Shhhhh,” Sansa whispered, looking anxiously around to be sure that no on was listening. “I can trust you guys, right?” She knows this could be cruel, but she is only giving them what they want.

“Of course.” The lady said, and her face was riddled with concern and interest. She had eccentric clothing on, and a pixie cut. The man with her was dressed normally except for the flashy camera around his neck, and ball cap with Roswell stitched across it.

“This photo was taken by my grandfather during the crash, and he snuck the film into his pocket before it could be confiscated.” Sansa pulled the funny photo from her apron, the one with the fat alien. “I haven’t showed anyone this, except you guys. Please keep it a secret.”

“Thank you.” They cradled the photo, and studied it like it was a historical artifact. While they looked, Arya walked around with a bus pan and peered at the photo, giving Sansa a pointed look. Sansa suppressed a laugh.

“You have a table coming in.” Arya called to her with an impish smile on her face. She nodded, and Sansa turned to see Jon and Aegon Snow standing by the front door. They were both wearing vacant expressions on their handsome faces, and Sansa watched Jon scan the room with his dark grey eyes. When he reached her eyes, he stopped and tilted his head. Sansa felt it, the current that shot between them like a shock to her senses. She wondered if he could feel it too.

“You guys can keep the photo, I have a table.” Sansa said, a smile on her face. She sounded put together, but for some reason Jon confounded her, ripped her apart at the seams. They barely ever spoke.

Then Sansa walked through the stuffy diner. When she reached them, she picked up two menus.

“Just you guys?” Sansa gave her best smile, and nodded her head swiftly. She forgot momentarily about the antennas, and they flipped around haphazardly, one of the little balls on the end almost hitting her in the eye.

“Yeah.” Aegon said walking past her and taking a seat. “Nice headband by the way.” Sansa furrowed her brows at him, and looked to Jon. He gave her a sympathetic look as he sat down. They had been coming in a lot more recently, and with them came general curiosity on Sansa’s end. She had heard things about Aegon, and was mostly unimpressed by those things. He was popular, one of the more popular boys, but he had a sharp tongue. Sansa didn’t like him. Jon, however, was quiet. She had known them both since she was younger, elementary school, but she and Jon never truly spoken to each other. She had gotten a couple words here and there, but Aegon mainly spoke for him. It was strange, actually.

“Can we get two cokes, two burgers, and two fries?” Aegon said sitting and spreading his legs out in the booth. “Can you handle that?”

“Hmm.” Sansa said quickly with a smile. “Sure thing.” She smiled at Jon before making her way to the waitress station, but not before muttering asshole under her breath. It was loud enough for Aegon to hear her. 

 

+

 

Sansa was watching Jon without even realizing it. She couldn’t deny he was handsome, his long dark curls falling into his face. His hands were clutching a bottle of Texas Pete and pouring them over his fries, and his eyebrows were quirked at his brother who was in the middle of some story that Jon didn’t find too interesting, or at least that’s what Sansa inferred by the exchange.

“Miss!” A small petite woman with horn rimmed glasses and pursed lips called out to Sansa, and Sansa wished it were socially acceptable to frown at belittling customers.

“Yes ma’am.” Sansa smiled from ear to ear, pulling her ticket book out, ready to take this woman’s order.

“What is in your fruit plate?” The woman asked making a humming sound as she glanced at the menu. Sansa glanced at the specials board and while doing so, saw that Jon was fixated on her, she gave him a soft smile before continuing. 

“Watermelon, Cantaloupe, Bananas, and–” Sansa’s eyes couldn’t leave Jon as he continued to stare. His mouth remained still, but his dark eyes were piercing as they had an unspoken staring contest.

“And what?” the woman spat, her voice already irritated. Sansa could tell she was from out of town, her regulars were much nicer.

“Strawberries.” Sansa said listlessly. She was too busy focusing on Jon and his eyes to even care when the woman made a snide comment about her and how distracted she was. “Strawberries.” She repeated herself.

“I’ll just have that then.” The woman gave the menu to Sansa.

“Yes ma’am.”

Sansa walked to stick the ticket up for her dad, and Arya stopped her. She had a funny expression on her face. Sansa knew what was coming; Arya had some strange theories on Jon, and the non-relationship between him and Sansa.

“Have you and Jon ever even spoke?” Arya asked and Sansa felt her cheeks burn. She is sure somewhere, at some point, but she can’t remember exactly what the conversation was even about. It was probably about Chemistry homework, or borrowing a pencil.  
“Yes. I am sure we have, about something, sometime...” Sansa rambled. “What does that even matter?”

“With how much you two look at each other, you’d think you were pretty friendly.” Arya shrugged her shoulders and moved around Sansa to grab the water pitcher. Arya stopped and went close to Sansa’s ear. She whispered, “You guys are basically having eye sex. It’s making me very uncomfortable.”

 

“Shut up Arya!” Sansa squeaked out. She never thought to call whatever she and Jon were doing eye sex. It was something that should have been uncomfortable or strange, but it seemed completely natural to her.

“Guys, can you get back to it?” Ned said from the kitchen, he was holding a spatula and breathing heavy. The kitchen was hotter than the dining room, and he was constantly wiping sweat from his brow.

“Copy that boss man.” Arya said to him, he was working the grill alone because they were short staffed. Arya was attempting to work the counter and help him when she could, but the entire place was packed.

Sansa shrugged and ran through the dining room, refilling drinks and trying to make sure she didn’t pour tea into water glasses.

 

+

Sansa didn’t remember much about the actual gunshot. She was in the middle of grabbing salt and pepper shakers for a table when she heard a loud boom, and felt a stabbing pain in her gut the very next moment. She fell immediately, hitting the floor, and everything around her went grey. She could hear screams around her, people gasping about something. She didn’t know why. She tried to move around, but she could feel herself growing more and more numb.

When she felt warm hands on her stomach, touching the spot that hurt the most, she thought she was being punished for something, and someone was going to end this misery.

The hands stayed still, and Sansa felt her body lurch forward as the pain seemed to slowly subside. It felt as if she was moving in reverse, and the excruciating pain that was there just moments before was quickly subsiding.

When she felt good enough, she flickered her eyes open. Sansa wanted to see who saved her, and she was stunned. She was looking into the same eyes she had been staring at her for most of the afternoon, Jon Snow’s. Sansa didn’t know what he had done, but she was no longer injured or in pain.

“Sansa, you spilled, you spilled ketchup.” He said lifting to grab a bottle from the counter, and smashing it. He poured it over her stomach, and she looked down as he did it. It all happened so fast, and she didn’t know what to say to him. She couldn’t even choke out a thank you. “I got to go.”

He left without another word, but it was still more than Sansa was used to hearing. He ran to catch up with Aegon who was waiting by the front door to leave. Sansa stood up from the ground shakily, and leaned heavily against the counter for support. She felt like Bambi learning to take his first steps. She watched Jon leave, but not before turning to look at her again, his face was riddled with worry. She couldn’t explain it, but she knew Jon Snow saved her life. She just didn’t know how or why, but he did.

 

+

When the police came, Sansa was sitting in a booth. She was hunched slightly as Arya muttered swear words under her breath at the imbecile officers asking questions. The whole sheriff’s office was there, and every one was being hounded with questions about the gunshot. The only person who could explain what truly happened was Jon.

“Sansa?” Sheriff Baelish asked her with a snide tone in his voice. He was wearing a pressed uniform, and his shiny badge on his chest. He was generally pretty nice when he came into eat at the diner, always complimented the food and over-tipped. Sansa wished his eyes wouldn’t linger on her, as they happened to do often. She couldn’t tell her father that the sheriff ogled his little girl in her work uniform.

“Yes, Sheriff?”

“Can you tell me what happened, please?” he asked, his lips curved and smirked. She felt bile rise in her throat, but she can’t blame Sheriff Baelish solely for the wave of nausea. It could also be the gunshot and copious amounts of ketchup that still stained her dress.

“I heard the gunshot, and I… I guess it sent me into shock and I passed out. The bullet must of hit the ketchup.” Sansa pointed to her stained dress and apron. “I am really okay. I just think the fall scared me.”

“Understandable, Ms. Stark.” Sheriff Baelish said making notes on his pad about what she said. “Why don’t you go get some rest?”

“Yes, Sheriff Baelish. Thank you.” Sansa stood from the booth and Arya followed her quickly.

“Ugh, he gives me the creeps.” Arya muttered crossing her arms over her chest and shuddering. “The way he looks at you, he should lock himself up.”

Sansa shrugged quietly, and walked up the stairs. She wanted a hot shower and to remove all of the ketchup that was still sticky on her skin. She could still feel the warmth of Jon’s hands on her too, but she didn’t want to remove that feeling.

“I need to shower.” Sansa said stepping towards her bathroom when Arya grabbed her arm and pulled her close, clutching her tightly. Sansa wasn’t used to displays of affection from her little sister. They barely liked each other most of the time. Arya said that Sansa was a vapid brat, and Sansa would call Arya an improper slob. It was their relationship, and they liked it that way.

“ I don’t know what I would have done if it were you, and not the ketchup bottle.” Arya said still holding Sansa tight, and Sansa couldn’t help the tears that began to fall from her eyes and into Arya’s hair. She wanted to tell her she did get shot, and she could have died. She probably should have died.

“Well I am here, so let’s not dwell on what happened.” Sansa said pulling away, and wiping the tears away. “I need to get into the shower.”

“You do, you smell awful.” Arya began to laugh contagiously, and soon Sansa was no longer crying, but giggling uncontrollably.

“Thanks Arya.” 

+

Sansa stood in the shower for several minutes, long enough for her fingers to prune from the water. She couldn’t find the proper energy to get out of it yet. When she ran her hands down her torso, and looked down to see the spot that had been healed she saw something that wasn’t there when she had first gotten into the shower. A glowing handprint was across her stomach, on the spot where Jon had touched her. She knew that a shower wasn’t going to be enough to get rid of it. She didn’t know if anything could, and that thought scared her.

She turned the water off, and stepped out onto her fluffy rug. She wrapped her soft purple towel around her and breathed in, smelling the fabric softener her mom used. Sansa stepped in front of her long mirror and examined the spot on her stomach. She touched over it lightly, and there was no lifted skin or true scar. It was like it belonged on her body like a freckle. Sansa then noticed the scar above her brow, the one she had since she was a child, was gone. It was as if it had never been there. Sansa exhaled, and felt the weight of her breath. The weight of her wish from this morning for it to be gone, and it was granted.

She needed to get a grip, and at school on Monday she would track Jon down. She would track him down, and find out the truth. Sansa thought about his face, the sheer terror and fear on it when he left the diner with his brother. She needed to also thank him, really and truly thank him.

**Author's Note:**

> For sneak peeks and info, check my tumblr out! Thanks for reading!


End file.
